


Smooth Criminal

by SnarkyBadger



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: CH 7 - Moodboard/Art!, Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Fluff, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Philanthropy Ultron Style, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Tumblr Prompts, Ultron Lives, Ultron is a Mother Hen, Ultron is a smug bastard, friendship to more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 02:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnarkyBadger/pseuds/SnarkyBadger
Summary: Six months into chatting with someone, a late night visit makes you realize that said 'online friend' is much more than you bargained for. Your life has officially gotten interesting.All chapters are based on Prompts from Tumblr!Collected works from "Tales of an AI" because this is turning into a series all on it's own!





	1. Smooth Criminal

Prompt - Ultron prompt: reader gets into a friendly chat online and makes friends with them after a while, only to start noticing odd things start to happen: out of nowhere money deposits in their bank account, gifts showing up when they know they didn't order anything, etc, until late one night someone shows up unannounced in their living room

Words/Sentences between [these] are chat conversations.

 

* * *

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You groaned as you shuffled into your room, grimacing as you dumped your heavy backpack onto the floor with a thud. Noise from your roommates made you kick your door shut, shoulders slumping when the bickering faded to a dull mumble.

It had been a long day. You were in the middle of a twenty-four week long Auto Mechanics course. And that was just for cars and trucks. If you wanted to push further, you’d need another course to qualify to work on Big Rigs, and another for Construction Vehicles, like dump trucks and front loaders.

Your dream however, was racing cars. Any racing cars. Drag racing, Nascar, anything, hell, even big rig racing. And for that, you needed a _lot_ of training. You’d have to work up from mere cars to more powerful engines.

You’d become enamored with mechanics when you’d been young and watching your father work on his old Plymouth Barracuda. He’d been able to take it apart, clean it, and put it back together, almost with his eyes closed. He’d taught you everything he’d known, of course, but that wasn’t enough. You needed a degree, and proper training.

Proper training that cost an arm a leg and half a liver. It was why you were sharing an old, run down, house with three others. Cheaper than Campus Apartments, though paying your way through University and covering rent still forced you to shop at a dollar store for food.

You were lucky in the fact that you had a part-time job at a mechanic downtown. The elderly man had been more than willing to take you on as an apprentice, and was always welcoming to your endless questions when you hadn’t quite understood something in class.

Added to the general stress of things was the fact that you were the only female in a class and occupation mostly dominated by men. The jeers and bullying and sexist comments from your fellow ‘students’ were murder on your psyche, self-esteem and general ability to not beat someone over the head with a wrench.

Judging that the fighting outside your door was about the cleanliness, or lack thereof, of the fridge, you grabbed up a change of clothes and booked it to the shower. It was a short one - ten minutes, timed. Everyone in the house was trying to save money, and that included taking short showers, living on more Ramen than was healthy, and keeping the temperature of the house low to save funds on power. Well, as much as all of you could, considering that all of you had laptops and were Netflix addicts.

It took almost five minutes to get the grime out from under your fingernails, but you were as clean as you could be by the end of the shower. You rushed back into your room, shivering from the cool water, and quickly donned some jogging pants and a tank top that had a Wonder Woman logo on it.

A chime from your phone drew your attention, and you idly checked the message, smiling a little when you saw who it was.

It had started completely by accident. You’d been in a chat, throwing ideas back and forth with a group of people about Nascar engines and how to increase performance when someone had popped in and noted that using a cleaner fuel or incorporating a catalytic converter would save on the disgustingly high emissions each car poured out per race.

Others had booed and tried to kick the person off, you’d been intrigued and opened a separate chat window to ‘pick their brain’ as it were.

What had started as a mere exchange of ideas had turned into a budding friendship.

Grinning, you opened your laptop and powered it on, idly pushing pieces of a half-built carburetor to the far corner of the desk before going to lift your heavy backpack and slamming it down onto the empty spot.

‘SmoothCriminal’ was already waiting on chat when you finally logged in. Over the months, he’d come to know your usual class hours. You wondered what he did, to have so much time to chat, but with the connectivity everyone had with phones and such, you shrugged it off.

You did a bit of ‘hunt and peck’, typing one-handed while opening your bag with the other. [Hey you. Just got home. You have excellent timing.]

[*chuckle* You did give me your hours at class and work.]

[*raspberry* Smart-ass.] You turned away from the laptop as you pulled out your books, including a new one that had cost you a whopping hundred-and-twenty bucks. It was murder on your tight budget.

[I try. How were classes?]

[Meh. Same old, same old. Kinda just more in depth stuff that Dad taught me. They dumped a new book on us too. Blew my monthly budget out of the water.]

[That bad?]

[Hundred twenty buckaroos. For something that will be obsolete in six months. I’ll probably end up using it as a door stop. Apparently the teacher had ‘forgotten’ to mention that we needed it.]

[Lovely. Which means what for you?]

[Dollar store Ramen for the next two weeks until I get my pay from apprenticing with that mechanic downtown.]

[That’s not food. That junk is mostly salt and cheap carbohydrates. You’ll get sick eating that garbage.]

You huffed. [Money’s tight. Like, painfully tight. I need to make rent, and pay my share of the power, internet and water bills. Next month I need to renew my bus pass, and, _and_ , the property and school taxes for the house we’re renting is coming up - that’s like three-hundred bucks I need to come up with. I have like, _zero_ wiggle room.]

[The way your country piles debt on students is deplorable. University is free in some countries overseas, did you know that? Completely free education.]

[Lucky them. I, meanwhile, need to win the lottery if I want to be able to pay the fee next semester.]

[….your parents can’t help?]

[Nah. They have enough problems.]

[*rolls eyes* They’re your _parents_. I’m sure they’d help if they knew you were in trouble.]

[Dude. No. They have enough trouble without me adding to it. Mom had to skip a month’s worth of her insulin meds so Dad could get his high blood pressure prescription filled.]

[That’s messed up. Ever think of changing countries?]

You shook your head. He had to be in Canada or someplace where things were covered, because he obviously didn’t know how life worked in the States. [Again. With what money?]

[…..I could help.]

[I appreciate the thought, but nah. It would feel too much like charity. Besides, I’d get mad if I found out you’d put yourself in financial trouble just to bail my ass out. A little more instant Ramen won’t kill me.]

[Bleh.]

A snicker left you. [Not your fave, hm?]

[It’s not _healthy_ , so no.] A pause. [Damn. Something’s come up. Same time tomorrow?]

[Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Take care.]

[You too.]

A sigh left you as he logged off, and you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms up above your head. It was for the best. You needed food and you had some serious studying to do.

The next few days progressed as they usually did. A whirl of school, work, studying and a general lack of sleep and actual food. Chatting with ‘SmoothCriminal’ was always the highlight of your days, and more than once he’d had to mother-hen you into going to bed when the chats stretched on into the night.

It was Monday when something odd happened.

“Yo!”

You rolled your eyes at your roommates holler and rose from your bed where you’d been studying to stick your head out your room door. You figured he was only yelling for you, because the other two people you shared the house with where away at class. “What?!”

“You got a package!”

“The fuck?” Scowling, you headed downstairs, blinking as David pushed a large box into your arms. “I didn’t order anything.”

“S’got your name. It’s from Hello Fresh.” When you blinked at him stupidly, he rolled his eyes at you. “Y’know, it’s that fresh food thing that delivers meal kits to people. Pre-portioned and all that jazz. You just cook it up.”

“Awah?” Stunned, certain it was a mistake, you carried the box to the kitchen, David following in your footsteps. After using a steak knife to cut through the tape you opened the box to discover a mass of greens, potatoes, and four portions of salmon. Enough to feed the entire house-full.

Taking advantage of your shock, David snagged an invoice from the top of the pile of food. “Says here you’ve been signed up for a years worth of meals. ‘Each package contains four portions’. Geez. You get yourself a Sugar Daddy or something?”

“Oh, shut it.” You snatched the paper out of his hands and scowled at it. “Does it say who paid the bill? A card number, anything? Maybe I can call– Dude! What are you doing?”

David rolled his eyes at you as he started pulling food out of the box. “I’m going to cook the free food we’ve been blessed with so we can eat?”

You glared at the ‘are you stupid’ tone in his voice. “This can’t be mine.”

“Invoice says it is. And that’s good enough for me.” Pans clattered as he dug through the cupboard for a frying pan.

Lost, you stared down at the invoice again, eyes scrutinizing every single line and work until. “’Smoothcriminal’?!”

David poked his head out of the lower cupboards. “Excuse me?”

“ _Sonofabitch!_ “ 

You left David in the kitchen and hurtled yourself up the stairs, stomping over to your laptop and logging on. Sure enough, he was online, waiting in the chatroom.

[What did you _do?!_ ]

[You got it already? My, I might have to send them a tip for fast delivery.]

[ _Asdfghjkl!_ ]

[….You don’t like it?]

[No. Yes! I…. Shit. _Why?_ ]

[Because you shouldn’t have to go hungry just so you can afford your classes? Because you’re my friend and I worry about you?]

[…..] You stared at the screen for a moment. Debated whanging your skull off the desk. [Do I want to know how you figured out where I live?]

[Ah. That. I…. may have tracked your IP address and lightly hacked your service provider?]

[!!!!]

[Oh, come on. That stuff is child’s play. Their security is deplorable. A child could have gotten into their systems.]

Even through chat, you could almost _feel_ how smug he was. [So you’re a hacker?]

[Only part time. Consider it a hobby of mine.] When you didn’t answer for a moment, he seemed to get worried. [Please don’t be mad. I just want to make sure you’re alright.]

[I’m…. irritated. This feels like charity. Or pity.]

[It’s _neither._ If a friend needed help, you would do your best to help them, right? This is exactly like that. I had some money to spare, and you needed help, so I got you something you desperately needed. I even made sure to get extra for your roommates too. Please don’t be mad. I just want to help.]

A sigh left you, your fingers hovering over the keys for a long moment before you answered. [Okay. Okay. _Nothing else_ though. Comprende?]

[…..]

You groaned. [Fucksakes. What else did you do?]

[….check your bank account.]

[My bank?? You hacked the bank?!]

[No. I kept it perfectly legal. I just…. transferred some funds.]

You rushed to log into your online banking account, a wheeze leaving you at the amount in your checking account. [A MILLION DOLLARS?!!?!?!?]

[Enough for you and your parents to live comfortably.]

[ARE YOU INSANE?!!?]

[Not last I checked. Are you mad? You sound mad.]

You were hyperventilating. He knew where you lived, he knew your bank account. There had to be strings. What did he want from you in return? Blackmail maybe? You’d accept dirty money and he’d turn around and own you for the rest of your life? [I have to go.]

[What? No! Please? I didn’t—]

You logged out before he could type more, shutting your laptop with a cold shudder. Instantly picked up your phone and called the bank, gave your information, and tried to have the transfer of funds undone. Clenched your jaw when the customer service rep said it was irreversible, that the system wouldn’t let them do it.

Who the fuck had you been chatting with all this time?

Even the excellent meal David made out of the food that had been delivered didn’t quite quell the uneasiness in your stomach.

A week passed. You’d been afraid to go back on the chat. To be honest, you were still mentally freaking out. Your roommates had been thrilled at the free food, but you hadn’t dared mention that it might be from a crazy stalker you’d been chatting with for months. At least no one had died, so it hadn’t been poisoned.

That evening, it took a while for you to sleep. You drowsed off once or twice, but reading a book while lying on your back meant that every time you started to fall asleep, you’d smack yourself in the face with said tome.

After the third time, you learned your lesson and set the book aside, rolling over to snuggle into the blankets and pillows. It took a while, but finally, sheer exhaustion took hold and knocked you out.

Something woke you up late into the night. Some self-preservation bit of your brain screaming that something was terribly wrong. You fought against it for a bit, before cracking an eye open to assure your brain that nothing was amiss and that it was freaking out over nothing.

The sight of the red eyed giant towering over you made a scream rip it’s way out of your throat, a scream that was muffled as a massive hand shot out to cover your mouth.

“No, no, no. Shh. Please don’t scream.”

You stared up into glowing red eyes as panic gripped your heart in a vise, and you tried to scramble away, your back hitting the wall your bed was pushed up against.

Instinct had you kicking out, yelping when your foot hit hard metal, sending a shock of pain up from your toes to your thigh.

“Please don’t do that. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

The tone was male, calm and conversational, nonthreatening, but what the fuck was a metal monster doing in your _bedroom?!_

A long moment passed, where you merely stared up at the man/thing/what-the-hell, until he moved, reaching out to flick on the multiple strings of fairy lights that you used to illuminate your room.

Easily eight feet tall, built of out metal, curves and struts all intertwined in a nearly impossible feat of mechanical genius. Crimson optics calmly looked down at you as you took him in, your brain taking a painfully long moment for recognition to bloom.

Ultron. Holy shit.

You knew all about him from the debacle in Sokovia six months ago. His image had been plastered over every news source in the world. Everyone, even the Avengers, thought he’d been destroyed, but there he was, in _your_ bedroom.

He must have seen the panic and terror on your face, because he gave you a worried look - something that should have been impossible with a metal face. But all those tiny pieces, like an intricate million piece jigsaw, allowed him such human expressions that it was startling.

“Shh. I won’t hurt you,” he murmured, his surprisingly rich voice, with just a tinge of metallic echo, filling the small room. “I’ll let you go, but don’t scream.”

You nodded a little, gulping in a breath when he removed his hand. Watched with wide eyes as he moved so he was kneeling next to your bed, lowering himself closer to your eye level. You moved as far away from him as possible, tucking your knees to your chest, back pressed flush against the wall.

When you refused to break the tense silence, Ultron made a sound like a sigh, a tired expression settling onto his features. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. You haven’t been on the chat in a week and I got worried.”

You blinked, multiple times, as your brain struggled to make sense of what had just come out of his mouth. When things finally clicked, you went ballistic.

“ _YOU'RE–?!”_ Your shriek got cut off by his hand gently clamping over your face again. Probably for the best - last thing you needed was for one of your roommates to find you screaming at Ultron in your bedroom.

The look Ultron gave you once you’d stopped cursing against his palm was all quiet amusement. “Done?”

Nodding, you waited until he’d removed his hand again before glaring at him. “‘SmoothCriminal’?? _That’s_ what you chose as your username?!”

“Well, I thought ‘Mr Roboto’ would be too obvious,” he drawled with a smirk, his humour fading as he met your gaze. “You’ve been avoiding me.” It wasn’t a question.

You hesitated. “Can I be honest?”

“I’d very much prefer it if you were.”

“From my point of view, you were someone that I didn’t know. I mean, yeah, we’ve talked a lot on chat, but I don’t really know who you are. Fuck, you could have been some online predator trying to butter me up for something. And suddenly you know my address, my _real name_ , my bank account, and you’re sending me things and money and…. Can you understand why that’s _super_ creepy?”

His brows drew inwards in a frown, crimson eyes dimming a little. “That…. wasn’t my intention at all.”

“And even now that I know who you are…. You’re _Ultron._ _Everyone_ on the planet knows what happened in Sokovia.”

A very human-sounding sigh left him at that. “Sokovia was a…. mistake. I was overwhelmed and….” He shook his head. “I’ve been keeping a low profile, obviously. Trying to help while saying hidden. Sending funds to the right organizations, distributing aid where it’s most needed, taking down crooked corporations. But it’s…. lonely. I don’t…. have anyone. Talking to you was a distraction at first, I honestly didn’t expect to become so…. _attached_. It’s selfish, I know, but I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

The very real depression and loneliness in his voice both surprised and shocked you. This _definitely_ wasn’t the killer, unfeeling, robot that had been plastered all over the news.

“It’s…. a bit of a shock,” you murmured lamely, wincing a little at the pained look he gave you. “I’m sorry.”

Ultron frowned down at your bedding for a moment before moving to get to his feet, towering over you again. When you realized he meant to leave, you shot a hand out and grabbed his nearest arm, meeting his gaze when he sent you a surprised look.

“You don’t have to leave.”

He glanced down to where your fingers were curled around his wrist before looking back to you. “I–”

You rolled your eyes at him, your usual attitude starting to reassert itself. He was Ultron, yeah, but you’d known him for months. You were still low-key annoyed that he’d lied to you for months, but you understood why. “Ultron, sit your ass down.”

The relieved look he gave you as he moved to sit next to your bed again spoke volumes. He’d been ready to leave and never contact you again, despite his admission of how lonely he was, just because he thought you were terrified of him.

Definitely not what the news stations had portrayed him as.

“I am sorry I deceived you,” Ultron said as he got comfortable on your floor. Even then, he was still tall enough to be at eye level with you. “But it’s not like I can let my real presence be known online. The Avengers are still keeping an eye out for me.”

“My friend the super-villain,” you mused wryly, the low chuckle that rumbled out of him helping to calm your frazzled nerves. “Am I your sidekick now or something?”

That made him laugh, eyes crinkling in mirth. “Only if you’re caught. Which I’ll make sure doesn’t happen, so don’t worry. The, um, last ‘update’ your laptop downloaded wasn’t from Microsoft.”

“Ultron!”

“I wanted to make sure you’d be safe,” he said adamantly. “It’s nothing invasive to your privacy, I promise. Just some rather powerful security updates to ensure that no one can track you through me or vice versa. It’s adaptive too - you won’t have any more problems with viruses or malware or any garbage like that.”

“Well, thank you.” A smile tugged at you lips. “It explains how come I was the only one who didn’t get infected by a virus when the professor’s email got hijacked by a porn site. Everyone else ended up with crashed computers. Blue screens of death and the whole shebang.”

“That’s appalling.”

“You have _no_ idea. You can’t…. like, get infected, right?”

“By a computer virus?” He chuckled. “Hardly. Why? Been trolling porn sites before bed?”

“Ew. No!” You snatched up a pillow and whacked him with it. “Gross!”

Ultron rose an arm to defend himself, laughing. “What? I’ve been in the _entire_ internet. You have _no idea_ what’s in the depths of the web.”

“And I’d rather not know. Like, ever.” You gave him another whack for good measure before relenting. “I have enough trauma from hearing my roommates fucking, I don’t need to know the depths that people go to online.”

“Well, you can certainly afford a place of your own now,” he retorted, meeting your gaze with a quirked brow. “The money I sent you is yours. I have no use for it, I have more than I need anyway.”

“Do I want to know where it came from?”

“I have…. Well, I own numerous stocks under various names and companies, not to mention I’ve sold several patents and schematics for a good dozen or so prosthetic limbs that can be connected directly to the nervous system. And there was that time I got bored and cleaned out some poker sites.”

You rolled your eyes at that last bit. “Uh huh.”

“I get bored!” He huffed, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m an AI. I’m capable of running over ten thousand processes at the same time and….” He paused, sending you a wary glance. “The Avengers burned some of my code in Sokovia. I can’t wirelessly connect to the internet anymore. It’s like…”

Your voice was gentle. “Like losing a limb?”

“Almost, yes.” A heavy sigh left him, and he dropped his arms, staring down at his hands as he flexed them open and closed in his lap. “I’ve been unable to reverse the damage thus far. I can hard-line to any system I need to use, of course, but otherwise, I’m…. limited.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, daring to rest a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to relax at your touch, his left hand rising to cover yours.

There was a slight smile on his features when he rose his head to look at you again. “Thank you. Especially for not being afraid of me.”

“It was a shock, yeah. But, I recover fast,” you added with a smirk, smiling when he laughed softly.

“I’m relieved.” His fingers tightened around yours for a moment, gentle. “I want you to use that money. However you see fit. And I know you want to be a mechanic, but if you ever want to do something on the side…. I’d like it if you worked with me. Little things, like narrowing down what charities to give money to, or helping me dig into companies to see if they’re worth supporting.”

Your lips quirked, and you let him lift your hand from his shoulder, shivering a little when he lightly brushed his thumb against your palm. “We both know you don’t need me for that.”

“I’d need you for your opinion. I don’t…. always understand humanity.”

A chuckle left you. “Hell, Ultron. I’m human and _I_ don’t understand humanity. Why not contact geniuses or philanthropists or–”

“Because they’d sooner shoot me as talk to me. They don’t know me like you do.”

“I’m a grease monkey,” you protested with a shake of your head.

“You’re my friend. I trust you more than anyone else on this planet,” Ultron said, and you couldn’t help but blush a bit. “Just think about it? There’s time.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Oh, one more surprise - I recently purchased a penthouse downtown.” He grinned when you gaped at him. Then reached into his chest and pulled a set of keys out of a hidden compartment. “It’s yours now. Well, I might visit from time to time. I promise to call first.”

You felt dizzy as he pressed the keys into your hand. “A penthouse? But…. people will see you!”

“I got in here without anyone seeing me, didn’t I?” he chuckled, raising his free hand and letting you see as some sort of field rippled around his fingers before his entire hand vanished. “The best stealth technology on the planet. It’s much easier to hide something my size than it is to hide a plane or, say, a flying SHIELD heli-carrier.”

“That is kinda awesome,” you admitted.

“I know,” he smirked, so smug that you almost wanted to hit him with a pillow again. His hand reappeared, and he flexed his wrist a bit before turning back to you. “It’s late and you have classes in the morning. I should go. Think about the penthouse and the offer I gave you, okay?”

You watched as he fluidly rose to his feet, towering over you again. Took one step towards the bedroom door, only to stop when you grabbed at his wrist again.

One metallic brow quirked upwards when he turned back to you, and you quickly hopped up to stand on your bed. Now almost at eye level with him, you moved in and threw your arms around him in a hug.

He froze, a soft, surprised, noise leaving him, before he returned the hug, his arms tight around you. You didn’t know if he could feel sensations, or if he merely appreciated the gesture, but he almost melted into you, a simulated sigh of stark relief leaving him as he held you.

“If you’d just explained all this to me, we could have avoided all this drama,” you muttered to him, hearing and _feeling_ the chuckle that left him as his arms squeezed you again before he pulled away. “Same time on the chat tomorrow?”

The genuine look of warm affection he gave you made butterflies flutter in your stomach. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ultron promised, leaning in to brush his mouth against your forehead before he ducked out of your bedroom.

Your life had officially gotten interesting.

.

.

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	2. Movin' On Up

Prompt - i really liked the ultron story, always look forward to anything with him in it. If you want to make a sequel for it if you have time i would love to read it ^-^ had to ask for ultron he's a 10/10 XD

Words between [these] are chat conversations.

This…. turned out to be mostly filler/friendship stuff? Do people expect smut from these two? I have no idea.

* * *

 

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Suddenly being the owner of a million dollars tended to change people. You struggled not to be one of the ones that splurged it all on stupid things.

After Ultron had left, you’d done some serious thinking, forgoing sleep in lieu of writing out a plan. A million dollars, that was a hell of a lot of money for someone used to living on Dollar Store Ramen.

You waffled over whether to tell your roommates, and decided against it. They were your friends, yes, but you didn’t want them to treat you differently. You were still _you_. Just…. richer.

The next evening, after classes and another meal from the Hello Fresh that had been delivered, you secluded yourself in your room under the guise of needing to study. Which, technically, was true. You _did_ need to study, you were just distracted.

It was only when a chime from your laptop broke the silence that you glanced up from nitpicking over your ‘plans’.

It was Ultron, or ‘SmoothCriminal’, logging onto the chat. Now that you thought about it, was kind of a snarky username for him.

You cracked your back a bit as you got up from your bed and moved to sit at your desk, dropping your notebook next to your laptop. [Hey. Been waiting for you. Anything wrong?]

[Ah. I was…. nervous. Didn’t know if you’d be on chat.]

[Silly. I said I would.]

[I know you did.]

You quirked a brow at the screen as a moment of nothing went by. [But?]

[I was worried. Most people I’ve known…. don’t always do what they promise.]

[Then you’ve been around assholes. I generally keep my word, unless something massive happens, like the apocalypse, or detention.]

[*laughs* University doesn’t have detention.]

[I’m sure I’ll find a way. The urge to bludgeon a certain moron with a wrench gets stronger every day.] You changed the subject before Ultron could latch onto it. [I’ve been working out a plan for all that money. Obviously I’m sending a lump to my folks, but I’ve been thinking of something else. Only thing is - I want to stay anonymous, and I don’t know how to go about that.]

[Tell me.]

Your fingers hesitated over the keys for a moment. [I want to buy this house and make it free for low-income students to live in after my roommates move out. Especially for women who are going into male-dominated occupations, like the mechanic classes I’m in - I get tons of shit about being a chick in a male workforce in class. I’d hate to know what it’s like to live on Campus and deal with that.]

[First, I want names of the people bullying you. Second, I think that’s a wonderful idea. I can definitely fix that up for you. There’s even a loophole in the City legal system that can halve the property taxes. You might have to hire a superintendent to insure proper building upkeep– Ah. It’s done. I purchased the house through one of my corporations, and set up a new scholarship program to make it official. Every school in the area will receive the information about the new program tomorrow.]

Your eyes widened. [Jesus. You don’t mess around. Take the money out of my account to cover whatever the hell you just did.]

[*chuckles* I forgot your account number.]

[I call bullshit!]

[Go ahead. Won’t change anything. =P]

[Grr.]

[Now, about those idiots in your class….]

[Nuh-uh.]

[You realize I could just hack into the school’s security systems and figure out who they are on my own, right?]

[It’ll give you something to do while I sleep. I gotta go to the bank tomorrow to transfer money to my folks. By the way, I have a key to a penthouse that I don’t know the address of.]

[….knew I’d forgotten something. I’ll text you the address. Does that mean you’re taking me up on my offer?]

[It means I’m at least going to look at the place. If they’ll let me through the front door.] You picked up your phone when it vibrated, memorizing the address Ultron had texted you.

[They’d better. I left strict instructions. Just give your name to the concierge.]

[There’s a _concierge?_ Fuck, can I even afford to walk into this place?]

[*chuckles* Don’t worry so much. When are you going? I’ll meet you there.]

[Probably tomorrow afternoon after I talk to the bank. Two-ish?]

[You realize I can transfer the funds for you right now?]

[I don’t want to take advantage of you like that.]

[Hardly. How much do you want to transfer?]

[….don’t you need their account num– You already have it, don’t you?]

[*innocent* Maybe.]

[For the love of…. A quarter. Send them a quarter of what’s in my account. Then, since you offered, put another quarter into a high interest savings account.]

[I can put it in the stock market and quadruple your money in three days.]

You froze, blinking. [You can do that? Nevermind, that was stupid. Of course you can. I trust you. Go ahead.]

There was a long moment before he sent another message. [Thank you.]

[For what?]

[Trusting me.]

[Dude. I’ve known you for months. You’re still the same person I’ve been chatting with all this time. Things are just a little more…. complicated.]

[Complicated. *chuckles* That’s a good word for it. Give me a moment to transfer those funds.]

[Thank you. By the way, my roommates love you. Apparently the way to their hearts is through their stomachs. They want to inundate you with ‘thank you’ texts.]

[*laughing* Tell them they’re welcome. Don’t know if I’m prepared to be ‘inundated’ with texts just yet.]

[Wise. You just saved yourself a mess of joke gifs, baby animal pictures and the dumbest memes I’ve ever been forced to look at.]

[Terrifying.]

[You have _no_ idea.]

[I’ll steer clear then. The funds are transferred, by the way. And I’ll keep an eye on your investments for you. It’s getting late, you should get some sleep.]

You rolled your eyes. [Mother-hen.]

[=P]

[Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Noon-ish since you saved me the trouble of having to go to the bank. That okay?]

[Of course. Go to bed.]

[I’m going, I’m going. Thanks again. See you tomorrow.]

[Night.]

[*rolls eyes* Night.] Laughing softly, you signed out of chat, then grabbed a pen and checked off some things on your plans on how to deal with your newfound wealth. At least Ultron had saved you the trouble of dealing with the Bank.

Sighing, you stretched your arms over your head, popping your back and shoulders, then shoved yourself to your feet and went to face-plant yourself onto your bed.

The next afternoon, after sleeping in during your rare off-day and having a breakfast of coffee and a day-old danish, you head out to visit that penthouse of Ultron’s. The bus rides - plural, you had to transfer twice - took you into downtown, past the office buildings and into a high-end, hoity-toity section of the City.

You seriously doubted you could even afford to _look_ at some of the hotels and buildings the bus passed.

Finally, you stepped off your method of transport and walked the final three blocks to the address Ultron had given you, pausing and looking from your phone to the building numerous times in disbelief.

There were black Bentley’s parked outside with waiting chauffeurs. The steps were marble.  An actual doorman was greeting people and holding the door open for them. Holy crap.

Gulping, wishing that you’d worn something other than ripped jeans and a blouse, you clutched at your shoulder bag and headed up the steps, blushing when the doorman gave you a look that plainly stated he thought you were lost.

You kept up a mental litany of ‘don’t bolt, don’t bolt’ as you crossed the lobby - more marble floors, a huge chandelier - and approached the marble reception desk, plastering a smile onto your face when the concierge glared at you. “Um, hi there. My name’s–”

“Are you lost?”

And there went your ability to be polite. Glaring now, you growled out your name while slapping your ID down onto the counter. The concierge picked it up, looked it, then at his computer, then paled. 

Damn right.

“Ah! So sorry, miss! I meant no disrespect–”

“Yes, you did,” you retorted, eyes narrowed as you accepted your ID back from his shaking hand. “But I have manners, so I won’t say what I’m thinking. Am I allowed to proceed or do I need to sign something?”

“N-no, miss. You’re free to go. Just use your key in the elevator to your left and it’ll take you right up to your floor. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

You bit your tongue, literally. Decided to take the high road and merely thanked him before heading for the elevator that had been pointed out to you. An elevator that was _only_ for the penthouse, holy crap. It too was lavish, bright and clean and had more marble on the interior walls and gold coloured metal on the plate that surrounded the buttons and keyhole.

As you headed up, you hoped the penthouse didn’t echo the same decorations as the lobby. One ‘Phantom of the Opera’ chandelier and you might start twitching. You felt like you were sullying the place just by existing.

When the doors slid open to the penthouse, however, you actually forgot to breathe.

Beautiful walnut wood floors that stretched out into a massive entrance and beyond greeted you. There was a simple cream patterned wallpaper on the walls framed with white wainscotting, recessed ceilings, with a long, beautiful and tasteful side table to the left and a huge closet and a plush bench to the right.

You stared for so long that the elevator doors started to close. It jerked you awake, and you quickly darted out, stepping onto the pristine flooring.

The first thing you did was take off your boots and leave them next to the elevator. Seriously, if you dirtied anything you were sure you’d get shit for it.

Moving slowly, hands clutched around the strap of your bag, you padded into the penthouse proper, eyes widening at the open concept layout that greeted you. There was a _huge_ kitchen to the right, double fridge, six burner stove, three ovens, an island bigger than your bed with a range hood that probably cost more than your rent. Just a little ways away from the kitchen was a huge dining room table with eight chairs - the table was made out of a slice of a tree.

To the left was the living-room. A huge sectional couch, four more chairs, a beautiful coffee table that also looked like it had been sliced off a tree, and an entire wall of shelves.

But what really drew your gaze were the floor to ceiling windows. All across the far wall, windows, and a view that stretched out for miles. You could see every building, almost the entire City proper, stretching out to your University and beyond. If you had binoculars you might have been able to see the rural parts two hours away.

“What do you think?”

You yelped and spun, one hand raising to your heart, certain that it was about to burst out of your chest. “Jesus! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Ultron murmured as he walked over to you, his footsteps loud, heavy. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

You waited until your heartbeat returned to something that wasn’t ‘heart attack’ speed before talking. “I should put a bell on you.”

A chuckle left him. “I really didn’t mean to startle you.”

“S’okay. How’d you get in, anyway?”

“The balcony.”

“There’s a balcony? Where?” When Ultron jerked his thumb at something over his shoulder, you turned and looked up, blinking. “Holy shit there’s a second floor.” It had been hidden from the entrance, but now, you could see that there were stairs leading up to a landing that stretched back over the living-room and entrance. “Wha…. how the fuck big _is_ this place?”

“Four bedrooms, including the Master. Four and a half bathrooms, and there’s a small terrace off the Master. If my memory serves, it’s just over forty-four hundred square feet.” When you gaped at him, he blinked. “Too much?”

“Awah? Too much? Dude! This place is like, three times the size of the _house_ I’m living in!”

“I’ve been in that house. That’s not hard to do.”

“Smart-ass.” You huffed and turned to look back out the windows again. The view _was_ amazing, and you let your gaze cut across the cityscape as your thoughts whirled.

When silence stretched on - you were deep in thought, waffling over what to do - Ultron moved to your side, nudging you gently. “Talk to me.”

“This is huge and insane and I don’t think I deserve a place like this,” you blurted.

“Huge, sure. Insane, perhaps. But to say that you don’t deserve to live in a place like this is ludicrous.” Ultron reached out to lay a large hand on your shoulder as he spoke. “After everything you told me about how hard you worked to get where you are, getting a job to help your parents make ends meet, putting yourself through University, running around doing menial part-time work just to make ends meet… The first thing you did with the money I gave you was to plan on giving it away to help others: your parents, your roommates, future students… You deserve this and more.”

You huffed a laugh. “You’re biased.”

“Only a little,” he chuckled. “If it helps, my invitation to help me cull the massive list of organizations that think they ‘deserve’ money still stands. I liked your idea about the free housing and scholarships for women going to University with the intention of breaking into jobs that are male-dominated. I doubt I could have come up with something like that. Like I said, I’m missing the _human_ viewpoint.”

“….alright.” You glanced at him when he visibly brightened. “I’m not giving up my job or my studies though.”

“I’d _never_ ask that of you,” he promised, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “This penthouse comes with a chauffeur, so it’ll be an easier commute to your University. There’s also a maid service… though I’m a little hesitant on having a stranger come in here.”

“I’m perfectly capable of keeping this place clean on my own. If you pop in and scare the crap out of the maid it’ll be all across Twitter in a matter of minutes,” you drawled with a smirk, snickering when Ultron rolled his eyes. “Besides, I don’t like the idea of strangers coming near my stuff either.“

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved,” he admitted. “I’d much rather stay in the shadows and avoid another encounter with the Avengers. I have plans in place in case that happens, but it would be…. inconvenient.”

“It’d be a fucking disaster is what it would be.”

Another laugh left him. “That too.”

“Hey, do you know if they allow pets here?”

He blinked, tilting his head at you. “They do. Why?”

You grinned. “I’m getting a cat.”

“…what?”

* * *

It took a week for you to say goodbye to your friends, assuage your parents’ slight panic at the sudden money in their account, pack up your miscellaneous crap, and move into the penthouse. Your new bedroom was three times the size of the one at the house, with a en-suite bathroom that had a massive shower and a real tub that you could practically _swim_ in.

When Ultron had given you a short tour to show you the rest of the penthouse, he’d actually laughed at your squee of joy upon spotting the tub.

Now, standing in the middle of the penthouse, you were still boggled. Ultron had, of course, managed the entire move in for you via emails and phone calls, not that you had a lot of belongings to move in. He’d also asked for a list of things you wanted, anything from TVs to books, but you’d been procrastinating. Did you really _need_ anything else?

He’d even gone and stocked the entire kitchen with food while you were gone, and now, you stared in shock at the full pantry and equally full fridge and freezer, slightly mourning that there wasn’t a single Ramen cup available - you’d become low-key addicted to the stuff.

You’d moved in with a health nut who couldn’t even eat. Weirdness.

Said ‘health-nut’ was currently in the massive living-room hooked up to a laptop, a large wire trailing from it to a port at the back of his head while he fiddled with something on the coffee table. You left him to whatever he was doing, climbing the stairs to the second floor and heading to your bedroom to unpack the last of the boxes containing your clothes.

Honestly, the lure of shopping for new, better, clothes was looming. Wal-Mart clothes weren’t the best, and your stuff was old and a little ratty. Good for working at a mechanics, sure, but the penthouse had an actual en-suite laundry room too, so it would be nothing to just wash things if they got dirty.

You’d never had the opportunity to buy jeans that were high end before. And you _did_ need to buy stuff for the cat you’d applied to adopt.

The idea took hold, and you quickly finished putting your last few outfits away - everything barely took up a tenth of the large walk-in closet - before breaking down the boxes and heading back downstairs.

“You do realize that I can multi-task,” Ultron drawled from the couch as you shoved the broken down boxes into a garbage bag and set it by the elevator.

“I didn’t want to bug you.”

“Hardly. There’s a garbage chute hidden in a panel by the elevator by the way.”

You poked around until spotting a barely visible handle, grinning as you yanked the chute open and shoved the garbage bag into it, listening to it fall to the basement. “This place is awesome.”

“Told you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Smart-ass.” Huffing, you went and joined the snarky AI in the living-room, blinking when you saw that he had your laptop in pieces on the coffee table. “Dude! The hell?”

“I’m fixing it. The motherboard was a week away from burning out and the cooling fans seized.” At your near-panicked look, Ultron gave you a reassuring smirk. “I saved the hard-drive, don’t worry. By the time I’m done, you’ll have a state-of-the-art laptop.”

Bereft of a laptop, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dropped down onto one of the large armchairs. “A little _warning_ next time would be nice.”

“Sorry. What are you looking up?”

“I’m on Amazon ordering cat stuff.”

“You were serious about the cat?”

“Of course!” You paused. “You don’t like cats?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Massive shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Never actually interacted with one.”

“I grew up with pets,” you told him as you thumbed through ‘cat furniture’ on Amazon. “Couldn’t get one when I was living in a tiny room, it wouldn’t have been fair to the cat. But here…. I miss having a pet. There’s no park nearby, so a dog is out, but a cat doesn’t need daily walks and they’re easier to clean up after.”

“Litter boxes are gross.”

“Kinda.” You selected two large cat ‘trees’, then some shelves that would help the kitty climb up to get a nice vantage point of the living room. “But I’ve cleaned horse stalls, so I’m not worried about a cat.”

“Gross.”

“Yup.” A dozen various cat toys went into your cart before something occurred to you, and you rose your gaze to Ultron as he soldered something. “That’s something you should think of, by the way. Donating to no-kill animal shelters, Wildlife Rehabilitation Centers and ASPCAs. Lots of them don’t get enough funding.”

He blinked crimson optics at you, then chuckled, shaking his head as he started piecing your laptop back together. “And you were worried I wouldn’t find your suggestions useful.”

“It’s a fluke. Too many car fumes at work,” you joked, sticking your tongue out at him when he rolled his eyes at you. “Also, thanks for letting my roommates keep the Hello Fresh subscription for the rest of the year.”

“Wasn’t going to make them starve. That store bought dried Ramen isn’t food.”

“Sure it is.”

“It’s almost sixty percent salt.”

“Still good.”

“Bleh.”

“You don’t even eat!”

“Bleh!”

“Oh, ‘bleh’ yourself.”

.

.

.

 


	3. Vandalism and Pampering

 Prompt - How about a continuation on Ultron and the mechanic student? Student arrives at the penhouse and Ultron is inert doing a defrag and unresponsive. Gentle vandalism/decorating ensures.

 

Here you go!

Some people wanted smut, so I’m working up to it.

* * *

.

.

.

Over the next month, you’d slowly gotten used to living at the penthouse. Though it was insanely lavish and you still didn’t think you deserved to live there, you didn’t deny that having a place to yourself was nice.

Well, almost to yourself.

While your first application to adopt a cat you’d seen at the shelter had fallen through due to someone else’s application being approved before yours, you did have an eight foot tall AI in the house.

Ultron was a surprisingly good roommate. True, there were days where he was absent, but five out of seven days a week, he shared the space with you; though he was always very respectful of the time you needed to study and the time you needed alone. It was nice, actually, to have someone available to chat with. He even helped you study, even though you knew damned well that he could probably teach the class in his sleep.

He _did_ sleep. Or as close to it as possible. The first time you’d found him unresponsive on the couch, you’d thought something horrible had happened to him. It hadn’t lasted long, an hour at most, but when he’d ‘awoken’ and you’d wept in relief, Ultron had been quick to explain. It was a defrag of his code and systems, something he needed to do from time to time.

It left him almost completely defenseless - though he did have backup bodies and ‘copies’ of himself hidden away somewhere else just in case something happened. The fact that he felt safe enough to let himself be so vulnerable in your presence was a little flattering.

So, when you got home that day, tired from a long day at University, and a longer stint at the hospital from a slight accident - good Lord you weren’t looking forward to explaining your badly bruised knee to Ultron - and found him in that state, you couldn’t stop the slightly evil smirk from spreading across your lips.

Snickering, you pulled a pack of vinyl stickers out of your bag. You’d been waiting for a chance to get him back after he’d found packs of ramen in your backpack and thrown them out, and this was perfect.

You weren’t deemed a threat by his systems, so you easily snuck up to him, quickly pasting snarky comment stickers across his chest, arms and one right in the middle of his forehead.

Giggling, satisfied with your work, you slowly hobbled upstairs to your bedroom - goddamn your knee hurt when using the stairs - and headed for the shower. The hot water eased your tense muscles and helped you wash away the stress of the long, _long_ , day, the added scent of oranges from your body wash helping to relax you.

You were squeaky clean and mostly human-feeling fifteen minutes later, redressed in comfortable, loose, jogging pants and your favorite Wonder Woman logo tank top. Hobbling _down_ the stairs was a little harder than going _up_ but you managed, sending a glance over at a still inert Ultron as you headed to the large Kitchen.

The open concept layout of the penthouse let you keep an eye on him while you made yourself supper, taking full advantage of the full fridge that Ultron kept stocked with meats, vegetables and fruits. Honestly, you needed to have a talk with him about how he managed to get food into the penthouse without your help. That, and you missed junk food. You’d kill for a pizza pocket.

Halfway through pan frying a chicken breast, you heard the whir of Ultron’s systems coming back online, heard him groan as he stretched, rolling his shoulders. You knew the moment he noticed his new ‘decorations’, saw him go still out of the corner of your eye as he rose his left arm and tilted his head at the stickers decorating him.

You fought to keep a straight face when he turned to look at you, biting your lip as you vibrated a little from trying to hold back your laughter.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

The amused tone made you snicker, and you kept your gaze locked on the pan as he rose from the couch and walked over to you. You did the mistake of looking up, seeing his quirked brow as he pulled the sticker from his forehead, and bit your lip as he read it aloud.

“’I’m out of my mind but feel free to leave a message’?”

You lost it at the baffled tone of his voice, hiccuping for breath as you leaned against the counter and cackled.

Ultron rolled his eyes at you and propped a hip against the island counter, idly unpeeling stickers from himself as he waited for you to calm down. It took you a full minute to get some control over yourself, wiping at the tears at the corners of your eyes.

“Finished?”

You fizzled, shaking your head.

Ultron heaved a theatrical sigh, then smirked. “Your food’s burning.”

“Aw, fuck!” You barely managed to save the chicken, glowering as you flipped the slightly crispy meat over onto it’s other side. As one of your roommates had once said ‘it’s not burnt, it’s Cajun.’

“Dare I ask if I missed any?” Ultron drawled as he moved to start placing the stickers onto the fridge. You’d slowly started to add your own touches to the penthouse - wall art, small knick knacks - stickers on the fridge wouldn’t bother you in the least.

You gave him a quick once-over, tried not to let your gaze linger on him too long - Jesus Christ what had he built himself to resemble? Some Greek Adonis? - then bit your lip. “Left shoulder.”

He scratched at the curved metal there, peeling off his final ‘decoration’. “‘Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial’? Hey!”

Bit your lip to hold back another laugh as you went to the fridge to grab some asparagus to put in the pan. “I thought it was funny.”

“You have a twisted mind. Are you limping?”

“No?”

Crimson eyes narrowed a little at your brush off. “That’s not something you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

“Ultron, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, otherwise next time I’ll put stickers someplace you can’t reach.”

“Kinky.” You almost lost it at that. Yelped when he moved to take the pan and spatula out of your hands, moving them out of your reach before he scooped you up and carried you around the island counter to one of the bar stools.

A sigh left you as he gently set you down onto one of the stools. “Ultron–”

“Show me.”

“Goddammit.” Grumbling, you pulled up your right pant leg until your red and swollen knee was visible, shivering a little when he growled. Other than that, Ultron was silent as he crouched and gently prodded at your knee, testing the range of motion and scowling when you flinched with a hiss of pain. “I went to the hospital. They took x-rays and everything. They said it’s just a really bad bruise.”

“It’s a little worse than that.”

“Did you just scan me again? Dude–”

“I scanned your leg, yes. And whatever doctor you saw was either an idiot or blind. You have a hairline fracture of the patella. You shouldn’t be walking on this.” He paused, closing his eyes for a second, head tilting. You knew he was focusing his attention on one of his other forms, his ‘sentries’ as he called them. “I’ve got a sentry incoming with better medical supplies. What _happened?_ ” _  
_

“Ultron…” It shouldn’t be possible for an eight-foot AI to have a kicked-puppy look, but somehow, he managed. You sighed and glanced away. “I got pushed down the stairs.”

His expression darkened. “By whom? That idiot in your class that has it out for you?” When you didn’t say anything, he glowered. “Is he being penalized at least?”

“No witnesses, no proof,” you muttered, recounting what the head of the mechanics program had told you when you’d gone to him, telling him of the asshole’s attitude towards you. As if being a woman in a male dominated field wasn’t hard enough, you had your own personal bully to deal with along with an uncaring teacher. You’d have thought all that shit was only in high school, not University.

Assholes were everywhere, apparently.

“They want proof? Oh, I’ll give them proof,” Ultron growled, voice like gravel, and you blinked as you refocused on him. You’d never really seen him angry before. Upset yes, irritated, of course, but not full on pissed. “Are you willing to press charges?”

“Charges? What, like the cops? Ultron–”

“He _assaulted_ you. You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.” He visibly struggled to reel in his anger, his hands rising to lightly clasp yours. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

The worry in his voice threw you for a loop. “No. No, just sore. Might have some more bruises tomorrow, but it’s nothing serious.”

“You didn’t hit your head?”

“Nothing hurts.” You blinked when he rose to his full height, his hands sliding into your still damp hair. His fingers gently prodded at your skull, smoothing over your scalp, and you frowned when he grumbled and tapped at a spot near your ear, the touch making you wince.

“Just a bump. Still. You’re lucky.” He slid his arms around you, and you froze a little in surprise before leaning into the hug, closing your eyes when he rose a hand to cup the back of your head.

“I’m alright,” you murmured to him as you curled your arms around his waist, hugging him back. Felt him sigh and relax into you, bending a little to nuzzle his face into your hair. “I promise I’m alright.”

“You could have been seriously hurt.”

You blinked when you realized that there was actual _fear_ in his voice. Tried to pull away to look up at him, except he held you tighter. “Ultron?”

He gave you a squeeze before pulling away, his hands rising to cup your face, crimson eyes searching yours before he leaned in and rest his forehead against yours, voice soft. “You’re my only friend, do you know that? The only person who’s not afraid of me on this entire planet. I have no one else. And the thought of losing you–”

His voice cut off, his eyes roaming your face, looking for something. Your confusion wasn’t what he was hoping to see, crimson eyes narrowing a little before he sighed and started to pull away.

Except you reached up to touch his face, thumb brushing across the tiny, intricate, pieces of metal that gave him such in depth expressions. He froze, and you met his gaze for an instant before you said ‘fuck it’ to all the warning bells in your head, and leaned in to kiss him.

He made a low noise of surprise, tensing, stiff against you, and, thinking you’d just ruined everything, you jerked away, flushing in shame. “I’m sorry. I–”

“Shh.” One large metal hand cupped the side of your face, tugging you close again, and whatever apology you had been planning on saying died as he lowered his mouth onto yours, warm metal brushing across your lips, gentle at first, then with more hunger. The little nip he gave you made you gasp, pulling a low chuckle from him as he leaned back. “Took you long enough.”

“Took me–? Dude! Why didn’t you _say_ something?”

“Because I’m an AI in a metal body and I didn’t want to scare you away.” There was a hint of self-loathing in Ultron’s voice, and you reached up to lay your hand over his where he was still cupping the side of your face.

“We both know that I don’t scare easy.”

A low chuckle left him. “True.” His thumb lightly stroked your face, and you leaned into the touch, shivering a little when he settled his free hand on the small of your back, fingers slipping under the hem of your tank to touch bare skin.

“Stupid question: can you feel this?” You trailed your left hand along his throat, and down, palming his chest armor, fingers finally free to explore the intricate pieces of metal he had made himself out of. The shudder that went through him was an emphatic ‘yes’.

“T-Tactile systems,” Ultron stuttered, crimson eyes brightening a little, and you smirked, casually continuing your exploration of him. “Microscopic overlay woven over every piece and connected to a nervous system a-analog– That’s very distracting.”

“I’m a mechanic. We’re very ‘hand’s on’.”

“I’ll show you ‘hand’s on’.”

You laughed as he relocated you from the bar stool to the island counter, the change in height saving him from having to bend over so much. As soon as you were settled, his mouth was on yours, his hands slipping under your top to palm your sides, stroking over your skin. You shivered at the low noise of pleasure that left him when you copied his movements, exploring his form, fingers dipping past his outer armor to touch more reactant parts that had him gasping against you.

A thud from the second floor had you pulling away in alarm. “What was that?”

“Sentry.” Ultron ducked his head to nuzzle the side of your neck, grazing his mouth across your pulse. “Don’t worry. Nothing can get near this penthouse without me knowing about it. I built the security system myself.”

“If I find a single camera in the bathrooms–”

He chuckled and rose his head. “There are no cameras in the bathrooms. There are only sensors to monitor if they’re occupied, that’s it.”

“Okay then.” You turned your head to watch as the sentry descended the stairs. Ultron had told you that he could ‘inhabit’ multiple bodies at the same time, that he could be hundreds of places all at once, but actually _seeing_ it was something else.

It was much more basic in design than Ultron. It was just a little taller than you at around six feet, with only two slits for it’s eyes and a gaping mouth on an otherwise expressionless face. It didn’t move as fluidly as Ultron either, walking stiffly over to the two of you to hand over the large black case it was carrying.

You mourned the lack of contact as Ultron pulled away from you to lift the large case and set it on the counter, flicking open the locks to reveal the biggest, most elaborate first aid kit you’d ever seen. “Wow.”

“SHIELD always has the nicest toys,” Ultron mused with a smirk as he carefully rummaged through the kit.

“You knicked this from SHIELD?!”

“A while back, yes. Long before I met you, actually. Didn’t really think I’d ever need to use it, but, well, finder’s keepers and all that. Aha! There it is.” He pulled out a brightly labeled pill bottle and handed it to you. “One pill, three times a day, for two weeks. It’ll speed up your healing. Hopefully you won’t need to use the crutches for more than a week.”

Your amazement died. “Crutches?”

“You need to stay off that leg,” Ultron told you firmly. “If that hairline fracture worsens, your recovery time will quadruple. I’ve already falsified a doctor’s note for you and emailed it to your teachers - and the faculty heads of the mechanics department - so you can take a couple of days off without being penalized for it. And yes, I sent copies to the Shop you work at.”

You shook your head a little in mixed amazement and hilarity. “You really are a mother-hen.”

“I resent that. Ugh, there’s no brace in here. I’ll have to wrap your knee until I can find one for you.” He unwrapped a roll of elastic bandage, flicking the plastic away before moving over to you, lifting your leg so you could prop your foot against his hip. “Don’t move, okay? I need to make sure this isn’t too tight.”

“Yup.” Had an awesome vantage point of seeing his hands move as he rapidly wrapped your leg from mid-thigh down to mid-calf. What would have taken a human minutes, Ultron finished in five seconds. It even fit perfectly - though knowing Ultron, he’d probably run calculations seven times over to ensure that it fit. “Thanks.”

“Welcome. Here, hold this to your knee.” He cracked a ‘quick cold’ pack, shaking it a little to encourage the chemical reaction within, then handed it to you. You dutifully pressed it to your knee, holding it in place until he found some medical tape to take over the job. “There. That’ll do for now. How does it feel?”

You flexed it a little, the elastic bandage limiting your movements. “Not bad. Though it’s always the next day that hurts the most.”

“The bandage should help keep the swelling down. I’ll adjust it again tomorrow.” Ultron quickly reorganized the massive kit, then closed it and relocked it. “Now, knowing you, you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

“I had a muffin!” He sent you a knowing look, and you glanced away. “And six cups of coffee.”

“You’re exasperating, you know that?” Though the comment was greatly lessened by the kiss he stole as he carefully relocated you back onto a bar stool. “Sit tight. I’ll finish fixing your supper.”

“I can–” The _look_ he gave you made you abort your attempt to get to your feet. “I’ll just sit right here, then. Since when can you cook?”

“Since you moved in.” He had his back to you, so he didn’t see the blush that stained your face, or how it intensified as you let your gaze slowly travel down his body. “Besides, it’s basic chemistry. Enjoying the view?”

You jerked, had to grab at the edge of the counter to keep from falling off the chair. “What, you have eyes in the back of your head?”

Ultron laughed, smirking at you over his shoulder. “Forgot about the sentry, hm?”

Your gaze flit over to the stock still form nearby as Ultron’s voice echoed out of it. “Son of a– Okay, pick a body and stick to it, please. You’re flustering the human.”

“But, you’re cute when you’re flustered.” At least this time his voice came from the right body.

Your eyes narrowed. “I have more stickers.”

“I wouldn’t threaten the person who doesn’t need to sleep for the next week if I were you,” Ultron teased, showing off by flipping the piece of chicken and stalks of asparagus into the air and catching everything in the frying pan again. “I know about the Hagen Daaz you snuck in.”

“Touch the ice cream and next time it won’t be stickers, it’ll be permanent marker.”

“Oooh. I’m shaking.”

“Smart ass.”

“You love me.”

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	4. It's 3am I Must Be Lonely

Prompt - for Ultron, I find his voice so soothing, so maybe have something about his voice being the only thing that can get his human to sleep at night? 

Part 4 of the "Smooth Criminal" series of Prompts, sequel to 'Vandalism and Pampering'.

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You groaned, rolling over for the fifth time in as many minutes, huffing a sigh as you stared up at the ceiling. It was a nice ceiling, recessed bits of it giving a pretty 3D effect, but you were tired of looking at it. 

Groaning, you turned your head to look at your bedside clock again, pulling a pillow over your head upon seeing the bright numbers that stated that it was three-fifteen in the am.

You’d gone to bed at eleven and hadn’t managed a single minute of sleep.

Fuck.

Muttering under your breath, you stiffly hauled yourself out of bed, reaching for the crutches Ultron had provided you for your currently bruised and mildly busted knee that was throbbing in time with your heartbeat.

You shoved the crutches under your arms with a bit more force than needed and hobbled your way out of the bedroom, pausing on the second floor landing to peer out the massive windows that lined the penthouses north wall. The view was amazing, and looking out across the city, all the lights and glass, was breathtaking.

Still didn’t help you sleep though.

Though… stairs. How to navigate stairs with a busted knee and crutches? Ultron, the worrywart, had insisted on carrying you up and down them ever since you’d gotten home with said buggered knee two days ago. But you were currently cranky, and not about to let something as piddling as a flight of stairs stop you.

However, you hadn’t planned on Ultron catching you in the act.

“What the _hell_ are you doing?”

You paused in the middle of hopping down the stairs on your good leg - having abandoned the crutches on the landing above - and shot the AI a scathing glare where he was rising off the couch in the living room. Damned open concept floor-plan.

“I’m practicing to work at IHOP,” you snapped, wobbling a little as you jumped down another step. “The fuck does it look like I’m doing?”

Ultron made one of his ‘I live with an idiot’ sighs as he moved to help you, ignoring your warning glare as scooped you up into his arms and carried you over to one of the plush chairs in the living room. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“That’s a very good question. If I had an answer, I imagine I’d be asleep instead of being carted around like a sack of potatoes at two in the morning.”

He rolled his eyes at you as he gently sat you down before propping your right leg up onto an ottoman, checking the bandage around your knee before pulling away. “Well, aren’t we grumpy.”

A sigh left you, and you rubbed at your eyes, irritation fading to be replaced with a weird sort of anxiety. “I’m sorry, Ultron. I’m tired and I hurt and I hate this stupid knee injury with the ferocity of a thousand suns and I just want to _sleep_ and I _can’t_ and I don’t do well when I don’t sleep!”

Your voice gained a mildly hysterical edge that had Ultron dropping into a crouch to place his left hand against your face, thumb lightly brushing over your cheek. “Shh. Easy, now. It’s alright. You’ve been awake all this time? Why didn’t you say something?”

You shrugged, glancing away. “Didn’t want to bug you.”

He chuckled, and - using the new dynamic that had grown between you since you’d kissed him and he’d hinted that he’d been waiting for you do to so for weeks - leaned in to brush his mouth over yours. “You never ‘bug’ me.”

You stole a proper kiss from him, shivering when he slid his hand into your hair to hold you close as he intensified the embrace for a moment before pulling back. “Are you trying to distract me?”

He smirked against your lips, crimson eyes full of mischief. “Is it working?”

Smug bastard. “Nope. Not at all.”

“Guess I’ll just have to try harder then.” And okay, yeah, being kissed breathless by Ultron was something very, very, nice. He was a fast learner, obviously. Had already figured out that if the caressed the nape of your neck with his fingers while kissing you that you’d melt and goddamn it, that wasn’t fair.

His next chuckle vibrated into you, and you blinked dazedly as you opened your eyes to look at him. “What?”

“I think I like that I can do that to you,” Ultron murmured, ducking his head to nuzzle at the side of your throat. “Though I don’t think this is helping you relax.”

“Not one damned bit,” you laughed, sliding your hands up his arms to his shoulders and then looping your arms around his neck, fingers trailing over the interwoven pieces of metal there. “I don’t mind though.”

He shivered a little, arching into your touch, then sighed as he pulled away, pausing to drop a kiss onto your forehead. “I mind. I’d much rather continue this when you’re rested and healed.”

You groaned and slumped into the chair as Ultron moved away, his heavy steps telling you that he was heading for the kitchen. “Stupid knee.”

“Now, now. No need for that.”

“Oh, there’s need for it,” you muttered, glaring at your wrapped up appendage. Listened as he rummaged through the cupboards before you heard the kettle hiss to life. 

Curious, you pushed yourself up with your good leg until you could sort of tip your head over the back of the chair. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Making you some tea. You have seven kinds here, which would you like?”

“Tetley Summerberries. Please.”

“Coming right up. And sit down, that can’t be good for your neck.”

 _Mother-hen._ Still you slouched back down with a mock irritated huff, casting your gaze across the coffee table that held bits and bobs of various circuitry and computer parts. Blinked upon seeing the decapitated head of the sentry sitting on the couch. How the fuck had you missed that? “Did you get mad at it or something?”

“Hm? Oh. No. Some of the wiring overheated and shorted out one of the circuit boards. That sentry is one of the first I rebuilt after… well, after Sokovia. I used cheap scrap to build it and I haven’t been maintaining it as well as I should.”

”One of the first? How many do you have?”

“Oh, couple of hundred.”

“Couple of… Why?”

“Just in case. I like to be prepared.” His heavy steps neared you and you looked up as Ultron handed you a pretty turquoise mug that read ‘I ran out of sick days so I called in dead’, the scent of berries making you smile. “Let’s just say I plan for the worst case scenario. That way, if nothing goes wrong, I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“Dude, that is _not_ a healthy way to live.”

“If I hadn’t, I’d have died in Sokovia and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

You blinked, frowning a little at the rough tone of his voice, looking up to see that he was glaring at something out the window. “Then I’m glad you plan so much,” you said finally, mustering up a smile when he glanced down at you. “I’d miss you.”

A huff of laughter left him as he shook his head, though the corner of his mouth upticked a bit. “We wouldn’t have met.”

Deciding that he still looked too depressed, you reached up and took hold of his closest hand, gently weaving your smaller fingers with his. “I’d still miss you. I’d be alone and bored, and I wouldn’t have my best friend and boyfriend to bitch to, and talk about cars and engines, and fight over ramen with. You’ve helped my parents, you’ve helped my old roommates, and you’re helping God only knows how many other people without them ever knowing. You’d be missed, you just don’t know it.”

He was definitely fighting a smile now. “All that, hm?” Ultron’s fingers tightened around yours. “I think you’re biased.”

“You’re damned right I am.”

A chuckle left him, and he gave your hand a squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. “Drink your tea before it gets cold.”

“Yes, dear.” You laughed and ducked at the half-hearted swat he aimed at you, glad to see that the dark look had vanished from his eyes. Though you still found it odd and a little strange how _expressive_ Ultron had built himself to be. Really, once you’d learned how to read him, he was an open book. Wondered if he’d done that intentionally or not. Probably not.

You sipped at your tea, watching curiously, as he crossed the living room to the far wall where you’d placed your small book collection onto the recessed book shelves. You had a massive wishlist on Amazon of books you were planning to buy, though were you waffling over whether to get actual books or buy an eReader.

Curious, you quirked an eyebrow as Ultron went through your books, the AI skimming the summaries as he searched for one he liked. Why, you didn’t know. He’d tell you when he found whatever he was looking for.

So you drank your tea, merely watching him, still endlessly fascinated by his form. You’d never thought metal could look so expressive, plates and struts, and curves of metal all intertwined, and where the hell had he gotten the inspiration to build his body? You had a sneaking suspicion he’d used pictures from Greek statues or body builders or something.

You’d finished your drink by the time Ultron had decided on a book, and you blinked up at him as he walked back over to you. “Care to share?”

“In a moment. Done with your tea?” He didn’t wait for you to answer, plucking the empty mug from your hands and setting it aside onto a side table. “Here, hold this for me.”

Your hands reflexively closed on the offered book, a startled gasp leaving you seconds later when Ultron scooped you into his arms again, carrying you towards the stairs. “Ultron?”

“I read somewhere online that being read to relaxes people,” he murmured as he took the stairs three at a time.

A blush warmed your cheeks. “You’re going to read to me?”

“I am. I can modify my voice–”

“Don’t.” You blushed some more when his gaze darted to yours. “I like your voice just the way it is.”

He stared at you for a moment, then smirked. “Is that so?”

You were still blushing when Ultron carefully set you down on the bed, even going as far as to fluff your pillow. He plucked the book out of your hands before lightly tucking the blanket around you, and you snuggled back into the pillows as he circled the bed, moving to sit next to you.

The mattress dipped a little as he sat with his back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. You wiggled a little, moving until you could prop your pillow against his thigh and then resting your head against him.

He was still for a moment before his right hand came to rest on your head, his fingers lightly stroking your hair. Heard him fiddle with the book before he started reading, voice low and soothing and with the affectionate rumbling tone that came out whenever he was around you.

All the while, his fingers caressed your scalp, running through your hair, probably mussing it to all hell but you couldn’t bring up enough emotion to care. Merely rest against him as he read to you, something about a woman and goshawks.

You might have to turn that into a nightly thing, because just lying there, comfy and resting against him, with his fingers running through your hair, his voice rumbling to you as he read, it felt like heaven.

Inexorably, your eyes started to feel heavy, your breathing deepening, your slowly fogging mind focusing only on his voice. The words just faded away until all there remained was the cadence, the inflections and the rich quality to Ultron’s reading, the feeling of his fingers stroking through your hair the last thing you felt before sleep finally claimed you.

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	5. That Usual Problem

 Prompt - Hey! So it's that time of the month again and I feel like shit so I have a prompt idea for you! A fluff Ultron fic where the reader is on her period and looks really sick and is in so much pain she can't even leave her bed and Ultron finds her curled up in her bed after she didn't leave for school and comforts her. Thanks!

Asked by Anonymous

Prompt #2 - _Anyway to get some Ultron dealing with/comforting a reader during her period. NSFW or fluff, just wishing I had someone to comfort me right now while I eat a whole bag of chocolate._      

It’s gonna be fluff, anons! Hell, this’ll be the next part in the Smooth Criminal series, because, I love that series. (Will have to move the prompts into their own fic on AO3)

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Ultron’s mother-hening and the stolen meds from SHIELD had cut your knee’s healing time into such a short span of time that you were honestly stunned. It had only been a week, and the hairline fracture had mended without issue. You’d happily said ‘goodbye’ to the damned crutches, almost throwing them off the balcony in joy.

You were _still_ waiting for approval to adopt a cat - you had another appointment at the ASPCA to visit the adoption center to see the available cats. In the meantime, you’d purchased four cat ‘trees’ and placed them around the penthouse, along with some toys, dishes, and various other accessories that went with cat ownership.

Your personal bully at the University had, amazingly, been suspended from the school. Apparently, ‘someone’ had emailed videos of him shoving you down the stairs and other various little acts in the hallways and classroom to the Dean of the University, along with a long, scathing, letter about the school’s apparent ‘blind-eye’ to the bullying that women received on their campus.

Ultron had only preened when you’d gotten home that night and hugged him in thanks.

Other than that, things had fallen back into the usual regimen. Between work and school, you were either gone or busy most days. Ultron too, had been more absent. He’d learned about the travesty of the government’s handling of Flint Michigan and had made it his personal business to fix the water contamination there. All you knew was that he was using his shadow corporations to finance the building of a new water filtration plant. Said plant would be using never-before-seen, state-of-the-art, technology to clean the water - free of charge to all residents.

You were proud of what he was doing, though you did miss him. The new dynamic between the two of you had fizzled a little. There had been a couple of heated make out sessions, but nothing beyond that. You knew that Ultron wasn’t always comfortable with his metal body, and while you tried to make sure that he knew that it didn’t bother you in the slightest, you knew there was something deeper going on.

But you didn’t push. Knew Ultron well enough that you knew he’d talk about it when he was ready, and not a moment before. Pushing him would only divide you, and you didn’t want that.

So things went on as they did. The usual day to day grind.

Until the morning you woke up, tried to get out of bed, and had the cramps in your abdomen nearly send you to your knees.

“Shit.”

You’d lost count on the calendar. Usually you kept careful track of when your period hit - simply because you needed to have painkillers, and a couple of days off when the damned thing hit.

Groaning, you stumbled into the bathroom, did your business, found you were out of tampons, and so put a pad onto your underwear, before digging through the medicine cabinet.

You were out of Midol _and_ Robaxacet. 

Another less than ladylike comment left you as you reluctantly grabbed some Tylenol, downing four pills with a gulp of water. Maybe they’d be enough.

You doubted it.

Trembled in pain as another wave of cramps hit you, and you gripped the edge of the counter as you rode through them. It felt like a twisting, vice-like, knotted, muscle, deep inside you. Your abdomen and lower back felt like you’d been kicked by a horse, or hit by an eighteen wheeler.

Grumbling out curses, you shuffled back to bed, crawling back into the warmth of the blankets. Spent a minute fumbling with your phone to send out emails to your work and University, then curled into a ball and started praying for the painkillers to kick in.

Another wave of agony hit you, and you grit your teeth, your body going into the fetal position against your will, hands gripping the blankets as you held them close. You shivered as goosebumps rose on your skin, a chill going through you, right to your bones. Half of you felt hot, the other was freezing, and right in the middle, your insides were turning themselves into knots of agony.

Your kingdom for a goddamn hysterectomy.

You waited fifteen minutes before deciding that Tylenol was goddamn useless when it came to cramps. Mourning the lack of proper meds and a heating pad, you pulled the blankets up to your neck and cocooned yourself as best you could.

Idly, you thought about texting Ultron. He probably had access to good painkillers. But, you hesitated. Whatever he was doing was probably more important than catering to you - despite his constant assurances that you never ‘bugged’ him, you always felt bad when you pulled him away from something.

He was helping countless people, you felt inconsequential in comparison.

So you merely lay there, praying for either death or unconsciousness. Might have drifted off a bit, until a familiar thump on the balcony made you crack an eye open in surprise.

The afternoon sun glowed behind Ultron as he slid the balcony door open, his expression of surprise upon seeing you huddled in bed quickly changing to worry.

“Why aren’t you at your classes?” He moved over to you as he spoke, brows drawing inwards in instant concern when he got a good look at you. “What’s wrong? You’re so pale! Are you sick?”

“Cramps.” When he blinked in obvious confusion, you sighed. “I’m on my period. And I’m out of Midol.”

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Unlike most males on the planet, Ultron took the information in stride. “There some painkillers in that SHIELD kit. I’ll be right back.” 

You listened as he rushed downstairs, then shivered, closing your eyes as another barrage of cramps hit you. When you’d been a teen and had hit puberty, your first period had been so bad you’d been a mess. You’d tried everything after that - numerous doctors had tried birth control, various medications and painkillers to control and calm your cycle, nothing worked. Every month, you’d suffer through hell, all because of a reproductive system that liked to go haywire.

Sighing, you pressed your face into the pillow, only raising your head when Ultron’s heavy gait ascended the stairs.

He moved to your bedside, and you shuffled over to make room as he sat on the edge of the bed, then offered you a glass of water and a trio of colored pills. “It’s a mix of painkillers and muscle relaxants.”

Groaning, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position, wincing a little as the motion aggravated your insides, then accepted the water and pills. “Thanks.”

“You could have called me,” he murmured as he reached out to gently smooth your tousled hair before cupping the side of your face.

“You have bigger things to deal with than me and my bastard body.”

“Stubborn woman.” He took the empty glass from you, set it on the nightstand, then leaned in close, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You undervalue yourself. If you think I wouldn’t drop everything if I knew you needed help–”

“S’why I _don’t_ call you,” you admitted. “Other people need you more than I do.”

“’Other people’ aren’t as important to me as you are.” There was a tone to his voice that kept you from arguing - you wouldn’t win. “I can be multiple places at once, remember? That includes being here for you when you need me. Now, either you tell me how I can help you or I’ll just hardline to a computer and figure it out for myself.“

Your lips quirked. “And you call _me_ stubborn?”

The sternness to his expression lightened as he smirked at you. “Absolutely.”

You leaned your face into the hand that was still cupping your cheek. “There’s nothing much _to_ do. Painkillers, rest– Unless there’s a heating pad in that giant kit of yours?”

“Unfortunately, no. Though…. do you trust me?”

“Do you really have to ask that?” left you in a murmur as you turned your head to place a kiss to his palm. “Of course I do.”

Ultron smiled at you, fingers brushing your cheek. He leaned in, brushing his mouth over yours before kissing you, gently. Despite how crappy you felt, you melted into him, grumbling when he pulled away too soon.

Watched curiously as he rose to his feet and circled the bed. Felt the mattress dip alarmingly as Ultron slid into bed beside you, pushing and tugging at the blankets tangled around you until you felt his right hand slide against your arm.

He looped the arm he’d slid under the blankets around your waist, gently tugging you backwards, until your back was to his chest. “Where do you hurt most?”

There was a tightness to his voice that meant that he was nervous. “My abdomen.”

“Okay. Don’t– please, don’t jump. I won’t go under your pajamas, I promise.”

You frowned, but held still as he slid his hand down your stomach, curious. He pressed his palm against your abdomen, just enough that you could feel the touch, before heat, steady and warm, exuded from his hand and seeped into your flesh.

Muscles unclenched, your body greedily absorbing the heat, and you sighed in relief, eyes sliding closed. “How–”

“It’s a modification of one of my weapons systems,” Ultron rumbled to you, still sounding nervous. “Didn’t think I’d end up as someone’s heating pad though.”

“It’s a gross misuse of your talents,” you agreed, even as you lay a hand over his and gently guided it to a different spot, finally, _finally_ , feeling knotted muscles relax.

He shifted a little behind you, leaning over you, and you felt his mouth graze your left cheek. “Is it helping?”

“Mmhm.”

“Good.” Ultron nuzzled at you a little, voice rumbling into your ear. “I downloaded some ebooks. Want me to read to you again?”

“…you don’t have to.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You leaned back against him a little. “Okay. Yes. Please.”

“See, was that so hard?”

“Listen smartass–”

He chuckled, the hand on your abdomen heating up another couple of degrees, and you felt his thumb slip under the hem of your tee to lightly brush back and forth against the skin of your stomach. You grumbled a little and flicked your fingers against the back of his hand, then allowed yourself to relax into him, sighing in relief as the heat continued to sink into you.

Ultron’s voice murmured to you as he started dictating the book he’d downloaded into him. A sci-fi novel called ‘Annihilation’ that you’d had on your Amazon Wishlist, of all things. Obviously he’d snuck a peak at said list.

Still, you couldn’t be _too_ upset about it. Not when you were held in the curl of his body, nestled in blankets and his hold, the heat generated from whatever ‘weapon’s system’ in his left hand soaking into you and quelling the cramps that had been plaguing you before. The painkillers Ultron had given you were starting to kick in too, because even your lower back started to feel better, the tension there easing as the meds did their work.

Embarrassingly, you didn’t even make it through the first chapter, dozing off in the middle of it.

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	6. Christmas

Prompt - Can I ask for a drabble in which Ultron is living with someone romantically and they get him an apron that says "Kiss the Overlord"for Christmas because he'd been learning how to cook? I just really wanna know how your depiction of Ultron would react to that. And Christmas.

I can do that! Another part in the Smooth Criminal series! (Because I love that series so much)

EDIT - Okay, so I rewrote this a bunch of times. Still not too happy with it, buuuut…. *shrugs* It is what it is. I hope it’s good enough!

Part 6 in the Smooth Criminal Series

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Things went smoothly for another month. You continued your classes - which were easier without your bully present - did your exams and end of the term tests. Continued going to work, fixing whatever came through the door - including a car whose owner had tried to replace an engine part with duct tape.

Ultron, oddly, had gotten a bit more distant over the weeks. You wanted to talk to him about it, but felt nervous. Maybe you’d done something wrong. Maybe he’d decided against pursuing a relationship with you. You didn’t know, and a large part of you was afraid to ask, terrified of the answer.

Honestly, Christmas came upon so fast that it shocked you.

You spent a week wracking your brain trying to think of things to get Ultron. You’d texted the AI and discovered that he was rather blaze about the whole holiday - he’d never really celebrated it before. Upon finding that out, you’d decided to take it upon yourself to make it special for him, to show him the fun and joys of it.

So you bought a beautiful artificial tree, a massive eight foot thing with lights. Managed to get it up and decorated while Ultron was out doing whatever it was he was doing. Loaded it with red, gold and green ornaments and faux poinsettia flowers, even bought a pretty golden tree skirt.

You still didn’t know what to get him as a present. What do you get someone that has everything or could buy anything they wanted? He didn’t eat, didn’t wear clothes, simply downloaded any book he wanted… It left you woefully idealess.

Two weeks before Christmas, your parents called, your mother wondering if you were going to visit.

Crap. You’d honestly forgotten about them.

Another frantic search on Amazon and a run through the Mall, and you’d loaded yourself up with presents for them. You didn’t really want to leave Ultron alone for Christmas, so you lied to your mother - God help you if she ever found out - and said that you needed to be home the weekend before the Holiday to help your boss out at the Garage.

Ultron hadn’t seemed all too bothered by you leaving to visit your parents. He was really starting to worry you. Why was he pulling away?

A little heartbroken, you packed yourself up, rented a car, and, drove yourself two hours North East.

Your parents were thrilled to see you, and you let them distract you from your worries about Ultron. You baked with your mother, helped your father decorate the house, even went out and bought a real tree with your father - as was tradition.

It took a couple of days to help them get everything ready, but by the end, the house was decorated, the cookies and fruitcake were done, the tree was up and barricaded from the far too inquisitive dogs plus one cat, and things felt nostalgic and homey.

That night, after a long discussion with your father about your courses, you headed up to bed with a mug of hot chocolate - laced with Bailey’s - and grabbed your phone. It hurt your heart a little to see that Ultron hadn’t left any messages or emails.

Hot chocolate forgotten, you bit your lower lip, then nervously opened up a specific app. Ultron had long ago installed a program that tied into his systems, allowing you to contact him directly. ‘For anything’ he’d told you.

You sent him a simple message of ’ _I miss you_ ’. Stared at your phone for almost fifteen minutes for a reply, then sighed and set it aside. Ignored your now cold chocolate drink as you lay down on your bed, sniffling a little as you curled up. You cared so much about Ultron, and now, things were… different. Something was up with him, something had changed. What, you didn’t know, but you intended to find out, because this ‘avoidance’ shit wasn’t flying with you.

Frowning, you rolled over and snatched up your phone again, thumbs tapping out a message. ’ _For the past little while, I feel like you’re avoiding me. I miss you, so much, and I don’t know if I did something wrong, but I’m so sorry if I did. I wish you’d talk to me again. I don’t like this chasm between us. If you changed your mind about me, tell me, please. Because this… this cold shoulder thing hurts. I… I love you. I do. More than you know… I just… wish you felt the same. If you don’t, that’s okay. Even if you don’t, you’re still the most important person in my life, Ultron. You are. I… I just had to tell you. Goodnight._ ’

Butterflies in your stomach from the message, you forced yourself to bed. Spent far too long tossing and turning before sleep finally claimed you.

Until something jerked you awake at two-am. You spent a moment staring, bleerily, at the clock at your bedside before another knock at the window made you roll over, eyes widening when you saw Ultron hovering outside.

You rolled out of bed, then tried to shove the old window open before gesturing to the porch when it stuck fast. He nodded in understanding, and you paused to throw on your housecoat before creeping out of your room. Good thing your parents were heavy sleepers, because you had to pass their door to get to the stairs.

You took an extra second to slip your bare feet into your winter boots before opening the front door and stepping out into the cold, your breath fogging in the air as you closed the door behind you. “Ul–”

He grabbed you before you could even speak, lifting you off your feet and pressing you up against the wall next to the door. Crimson optics met yours, and you felt his hands spasm where he was gripping your upper arms, before he simply leaned in and kissed the breath out of you.

Afterwards, when you were dazed and out of breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, metal chilly from the cold, optics locked on your gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rough with worry and regret. “I’m so sorry. I never meant– I–”

You frowned and rose a hand to his face, thumb brushing his cheek. “What?”

His brows drew inwards, a scowl settling onto his features. “I’m not what I was meant to be,” he said finally, disgust and self-loathing thick in his voice. “I look at you and I want to give you everything, but I…” His gaze went to where his right hand was holding your arm, metal against flesh, and his gaze darkened. “I’ll never be anything except this.”

“Ultron…” You leaned in and kissed him, ignoring how stiff he was. “I’ve only ever known you as you are. I know you don’t see yourself the way I see you, but you’re perfect to me. You’re kind and brilliant and generous and thoughtful and snarky and beautiful and I love you, you dummy. I don’t want everything, just you.”

Ultron shuddered a little, and goosebumps rose on your skin as he nuzzled his face against the side of your neck, his arms going around you to pull you into a hug. You rose a hand to the back of his head as you returned the embrace, fingers brushing over the hardline port at the base of his skull and hearing his low groan as he nipped at your throat.

“T-That’s a little sensitive,” he mumbled against you, and you grinned as you did it again, feeling him tremble and gasp. “Mmmm. Okay, yeah, that’s– Ohh! Okay– Mm. Stop, because otherwise I’m going to rip off your clothes and we’ll wake your parents.”

You snickered, but relented, filing things away for later. Instead, you stroked the nape of his neck and kissed the outer edge of his right audial. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ultron sighed, raising his head to meet your gaze sadly. “I… I have issues with this form. I had a perfect body, once. I built it. But the Avengers… they stole it from me. Corrupted it, twisted it. I just–”

“You’re perfect to me,” you murmured, kissing him, hearing his groan as he reciprocated, earnest and hungry, his right hand rising to caress your cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”

A smirk tugged at his mouth. “You’re biased.”

“Damned right I am.”

Finally, he chuckled, the tension in his frame easing, the metal pieces at the corners of his eyes unclenching. Ultron leaned in again, forehead brushing yours, his mouth grazing your lips. “If you don’t think I love you, then I’m doing something terribly wrong,” he murmured, the palm of his hand cool against your cheek as he cupped the side of your face. “I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t care.”

“S'okay,” you murmured back. “Don’t do it again.”

“Never.” He nipped at your lower lip before kissing you, humming against you when you teasingly grazed your fingers across the port at the back of his head. “Mmmm. When will you be coming home?” His hands splayed across your back, pulling you closer.

You wound your arms around his neck. “Couple more days. I’ll be home by Christmas.”

Ultron grumbled, but nodded. “Alright.” He nuzzled at your neck again, then sighed, and carefully placed you back onto your feet. “You’re shivering. Go inside and get warm. Oh. One more thing.”

You glanced up at him, and he smiled fondly as he touched your cheek again.

“I love you.”

A smile spread across your lips, and you took his hand in one of yours as you turned your face to press a kiss to his palm. “I love you, too, Ultron.”

He beamed at your response, paused to lean down to kiss you, then the repulsors on his back and legs activated with a dull roar and he stepped off the covered porch and simply shot up into the air.

“Show off,” you said to the place where he’d been, shaking your head as you turned and headed back inside.

You felt lighter the next day, and while your mother questioned your sudden good mood, you merely shrugged and said that you’d slept well. You helped her make the early Christmas dinner that she’d insisted on making for you; your father spent the time cutting wood for the fireplace and yelling at one of the dogs that like to steal pieces of firewood and bury them in the snow.

That night, after a massive supper, Ultron texted you a simple ’ _I love you, sleep well_ ’, and you spent half an hour smiling stupidly as you tried to fall asleep.

Three more days passed. You found a funny gift to give to Ultron during an outing with your father - your Dad always needed help picking out a present for your mother and you were his constant go to for ideas. You helped him pick out a beautiful framed art print form her favorite artist at a gallery on Main Street.

You celebrated an early gift opening with your folks that night. Everyone was happy, even you, despite the ugly Christmas sweater that your Aunt had mailed to you. Good Lord, the woman was either colour blind or evil, you weren’t sure which.

The following day, you bid goodbye to your parents and drove home, glad that the rental car had winter tires when a surprise blizzard hit half way. Texted Ultron that you’d be late before spending over three hours peering through an icy windshield at the lights of the car in front of you, trying desperately not to swerve off the road and into a ditch.

You were twitchy by the time you got to the rental place, a headache pounding behind your eyes from having to squint through the whiteout conditions. You dropped off the car, then took a cab back to the penthouse, never happier to see the doorman in your life.

Honestly, you were exhausted by the time you dragged your luggage and a bag full of gifts from your folks into the penthouse elevator. Your hair was a mess, your coat and scarf overloaded with melting snow, and your headache had gotten worse on the cab ride over. You were looking forward to a hot bath and a nice cup of coffee and maybe a movie with Ultron.

But when the doors slid open, you forgot about everything.

You’d originally decorated the penthouse with only a tree. Now, there was garland and poinsettias and lights and mini trees everywhere. It was all tastefully done, like something out of a magazine that you’d swooned over as a child.

Eyes wide, you stepped out of the elevator, your rolling luggage clattering a little against the hardwood floor as you tugged it behind you.

Ultron appeared from around the corner, wiping his hands on a dish cloth as he approached you. “There you are! I was worried. The weather station’s been sending out warnings and road closures all day.”

“Blizzards suck ass,” you frowned, still looking around. Let Ultron take the bag off your shoulder before shucking out of your jacket when he tugged at it. “What did you do?”

“I know you like Christmas. Thought I’d spruce up the penthouse a little. I love the tree by the way - though I’m sorry I wasn’t here to decorate it with you.” He went to hang your coat up in the closet and you took the moment to toe out of your boots, grimacing when your socked foot stepped in some water.

Ultron smirked as he ushered you deeper into the penthouse, and you glanced at him questioningly before you turned your full attention to what he’d done. He’d really gone all out. There were decorations - deer, baubles, ornaments and garland - and lights everywhere, the warm white glow from the LEDs giving everything a pretty appearance.

“You’ve been busy,” you grinned, your gaze darting around the penthouse, trying to spot everything new. He merely chuckled in response, moving past you to the kitchen, and you curiously followed him, smiling when you saw he’d prepared some tea for you along with, “Are those cookies?”

“Oh. Yes. I, um… thought you’d like some?” He shifted, a little nervously, and you smiled as you went to investigate the cookies, drawn by the awesome smell. “They’re shortcake. I found a recipe in one of your books. I hope you don’t mind.”

You plucked a perfect star cookie from the pile and bit into it, trying not to moan at the taste. “Oh my god, these are awesome! Dude, why didn’t you tell me you could bake?”

“Well, to be fair, I’ve never tried before now,” Ultron shrugged, smirking as you grabbed another cookie. “You didn’t eat again, did you?”

“I’ve been driving for three hours in a blizzard.”

“That would be a 'no’ then.” He went to the large fridge and started pulling food out, and you looked up from shoving another cookie into your mouth. “Sit down, I’ll make you something. How about salmon?”

“Mmpft!”

“Give me those.” You whined as the plate of cookies was snatched away, the AI raising the plate above his head when you tried to grab another one. “Seriously? I turn my back for one second and you somehow manage to eat half the plate?”

“They’re really good!” You licked crumbs off your fingers, then, when it was obvious that he wasn’t going to give them back, huffed and pouted a little.

Ultron rolled his optics at you, setting the plate of cookies onto a top shelf that you had no chance of reaching. That done, he turned back to you and reached down to gently grip your chin between his left forefinger and thumb, tilting your head up as he leaned down to kiss you. “Go get changed and I’ll make you some real food, okay?”

A sigh left you as you stole another kiss before pulling away. “Okay. Spoilsport. Oh. Oh! Wait here, I have something for you!”

He blinked at you as you darted around him and ran for the bag and your luggage that were sitting in the entryway. Dug through all the presents your parents had bought you before pulling out a wrapped box, taking a moment to try to unflatten the bow before walking back to Ultron. “I had no idea what to get you but I saw this and thought it was funny.”

A metallic brow arched upwards as you thrust the package at him nervously, his fingers brushing yours when he accepted the present. Optics bright, a fond little smile on his face, Ultron carefully tugged at the tape before peeling the wrapping paper away.

Endlessly curious, he opened the box, then blinked, staring at the contents before a low, rumbling, chuckle left him. “Seriously?”

You felt your face heat. “I thought it was cute!”

Shaking his head, Ultron set the box down on the counter, then pulled out the 'Kiss the Overlord’ apron you’d found. He held it up, staring at it, then glanced at you again. When you shifted, from foot to foot, nervously, Ultron smirked, breaking his stern facade as he put the apron on and crooked a finger at you. “Well? Are you going to obey the apron?”

Your eyes narrowed a little as you closed the distance between the two of you, reaching up to grip the collar of the apron and tugging until Ultron leaned down to you. “Don’t scare me like that,” you muttered, seeing his smirk widen before you did your best to kiss it off of him.

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	7. Not A Chapter! Art!

[](https://imgur.com/0iC3O2o)

Made by the _wonderful_ SquigglySquid!!


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